


Transformation

by Heather_Night



Series: Shifter Criminal Investigative Service [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, College Student Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Law Enforcement, M/M, POV Peter Hale, POV Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 17:55:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13105494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heather_Night/pseuds/Heather_Night
Summary: Now was not the time to lose his focus as the Shifter Criminal Investigative Service was in the midst of a big investigation regarding a new series of seemingly connected homicides.  Unfortunately his wolf, and his human side for that matter, wanted to see Stiles and make sure the younger man was okay.





	Transformation

**Author's Note:**

> The third part of the SCIS 'verse concerns my wildcard h/c prompt and I've selected kidnapping for this outing.
> 
> The same rules are in play...if you think I need to update the tags please let me know and the rating remains at Mature.

Peter was restless. He knew his concentration was lacking and his boss at the SCIS, Sebastien, had been giving him searching looks throughout the shift. 

Now was not the time to lose his focus as the Shifter Criminal Investigative Service was in the midst of a big investigation regarding a new series of seemingly connected homicides. Unfortunately his wolf, and his human side for that matter, wanted to see Stiles and make sure the younger man was okay.

“Peter, what has happened?” Sebastien Valet’s soft French accent interrupted Peter’s obsessive thoughts on Stiles’s wellbeing.

“I apologize for my lack of attention. It won’t happen again.” Peter took his job very seriously and he was bothered by his inability to focus on the task at hand. He was more bothered by the threat posed to Stiles by an unstable young man but other than handcuffing them together, he didn’t know how to assure his safety.

Sebastien put a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Something grave must be weighing on your mind, that is all I meant. If there’s anything I can do to help, you only have to ask.”

Peter sighed. Maybe he needed a sounding board. “Yesterday evening another student, and a shifter at that, assaulted my friend Stiles after his last class on campus. Stiles suffered a painful bite on the back of his shoulder and after examining his wound, it looked to me as though a lamprey had clamped on to him.”

“Ah yes, Stiles, the human with Mountain Ash abilities who you were trapped with recently. Did you happen to see this shifter?” Sebastien was patient as he pulled the details from Peter; that was why Sebastien excelled at his job.

“I arrived in time to see this Donovan Donati stalking Stiles down an empty hallway on campus and he moved like a Wendigo. Obviously I know shifter hybrids exist, but is a Wendigo-Lamprey even possible? I mean how do fish mate with wendigos?”

“Yes, that is a conundrum. Not unlike our investigation in some ways, no?” Sebastien tapped his chin as he often did when in was in the midst of solving a complex problem.

‘You think the werewolf-raiju hybrid we’ve been tracking is somehow connected to Donati?” Peter had been considering Donovan Donati’s pursuit of Stiles to be completely personal but it was true the mating of an electrical creature like the raiju was as unlikely to happen with a werewolf as a lamprey and wendigo.

Sebastien slapped Peter on the shoulder. “I think this bears looking into. You might have handed us our first solid lead to pursue. Now go find your friend and make certain he is safe. We’ll meet again tomorrow and look at this with fresh eyes.”

Peter knew Sebastien wouldn’t be going home. No, he’d be pouring himself into research, looking for patterns, getting a jump on tomorrow’s proceedings.

Cracking a smile for what felt like the first time all day, Peter acquiesced. He very much wanted to see Stiles with his own eyes and figure out how to keep him close by. And safe. 

Stiles had quickly made a spot for himself in Peter’s life even though he didn’t believe it yet. Peter just hoped he had the time to prove it to the human, and maybe himself, too.

Trusting humans was difficult but so far it had been smooth sailing, discounting the attacks, with Stiles.

-0-

Stiles was restless and bored. It was a deadly combination that usually resulted in Stiles getting into mischief. 

Although to be fair, Stiles hadn’t been the one creating problems lately. That could be laid firmly at Donovan Donati’s feet.

He’d promised Peter he would stay at his condo and Stiles had been shaken enough after his encounter with Donovan that he didn’t want to leave the confines of his boyfriend’s home. It had been nine hours ago since that promise and his feelings had since done an about face.

For one, he felt very out of place in the white walled, white-carpeted living room. He worried that at any moment he would spill something, marring the professional looking decor.

The kitchen wasn’t much better with the marble countertops and stainless steel appliances but at least that area was built to withstand spills.

Stiles stared at the clock on the stovetop. Peter should be home soon and then Stiles hoped he could settle down and get some work done, preferably at the library.

The lock in the door snicked open. Stiles rose to his feet and peered around the kitchen entrance, verifying that it was Peter arriving and not someone else.

Peter’s attention immediately focused on Stiles and a smile lit his face. “There you are, Stiles. How was your day?”

With a shrug that turned his smile into a wince—he kept forgetting about the bite on his shoulder until he moved wrong—Stiles answered, “I didn’t get much done on my thesis outline. Do you think you could drop me off at the library?”

Peter frowned as he slung his leather coat over the hook on the coatrack and moved directly to Stiles’s side. “Let me drain some of your pain and then we can talk about your plans.”

That didn’t sound like a yes but if Peter thought he could talk Stiles out of his plans, he was sorely mistaken. Stiles was going to brush Peter’s offer off but before he could say anything, Peter cupped the back of his neck. The tenderness in his shoulder immediately lifted and Stiles burrowed into Peter’s chest.

“Let’s get you to the couch. I think I took too much pain.” Peter’s voice soothed him and it took a moment for Stiles to realize he was swaying.

How could he get anything done if Peter insisted on making him sleepy? Or maybe that was the plan. 

“Wait. What are you doing?” Stiles pushed out of Peter’s arms. “Did you do that on purpose?” 

Stiles squinted at the other man, trying to gauge the truth on this face.

Peter’s face remained blank.

He knew werewolves were protective of those close to them. He’d known that when he’d decided he wanted a relationship with the other man. This was part and parcel of being with Peter and he either had to accept it or move on.

Shrugging—this time without pain, thanks to Peter’s touch—Stiles answered his own question. “I guess in the grand scheme of things it doesn’t matter. Now can you give me a ride to the library or do I need to call a cab?”

Stiles didn’t miss the widening of Peter’s blue eyes; he’d surprised the other man by not throwing a tantrum over his perceived transgressions.

“Stiles, I really wish you’d reconsider and stay in this evening. Can it wait until tomorrow? If you still want to go, I’ll drop you off on my way in to work.” Peter’s eyes narrowed, observing.

He didn’t like it. He felt constrained. 

However, he wasn’t a complete idiot. Donovan Donati had an axe to grind and Stiles preferred that he not be the grinding wheel the axe was sharpened on.

Blowing his drooping bangs out of his face, Stiles sighed. “Okay, but I’ll need to borrow some clothing from you.”

Peter’s stance relaxed and his face brightened again. “It would be my pleasure.”

-0-

Peter had been bemused by Stiles’s easy acceptance of his ploys to keep him close. He’d thought for sure the human would pitch a fit but Stiles had pretty much shrugged and accepted Peter’s machinations.

His only request had been to borrow clothing and Peter’s wolf had positively reveled in putting its scent all over the human.

Stiles had even brushed a kiss over Peter’s cheek before hopping out of the Shelby Charger and heading into the library with a quiet thank you. Yes, Stiles was full of surprises.

The place was bustling with activity and as long as Stiles kept to the crowded areas, Donovan Donati shouldn’t be able to place a hand—or mouth—on the human.

Now it was time for Peter to turn his attentions to work.

Sebastien greeted Peter as soon as he entered the SCIS bullpen. “I think we may be on to something, Peter. We need to put a tail on Donati.”

“You know I won’t argue with that idea.” Peter didn’t shrug out of his jacket as Sebastien was drawing his own on. “Is that where we’re headed?”

“Yes. It looks like he hangs around campus even though he no longer is a student. He did not pass the psychiatric evaluation so the academy turned him down.” Sebastien looked very solemn as he continued his explanation. “He has anger management issues that were highlighted during the Anger Expression Inventory portion of the eval. Not only is he not suitable for law enforcement but also he seems to fit our current killer’s profile.

Peter grimaced. His concerns for Stiles’s safety were mounting. “You had better drive. I’ve been to the campus several times and we don’t want to tip our hand to Donati.”

Sebastien clapped Peter’s shoulder. “C'est bon. We will keep your jeune homme safe.

The ride to the campus was quiet. Peter checked his cell phone, relieved that Stiles was adhering to his request to check in every thirty minutes.

They left the car in an on campus parking structure and headed toward the student union where students always milled around between classes.

There was no sign of Donovan so Peter and Sebastien split up and mingled, trying to overhear any conversations that might give them a lead. After two hours of non-stop circulating, Sebastien sent him a text asking to meet back at the car. As Peter was leaving the union, his heightened hearing picked up an interesting conversation between two young gentlemen.

“Are you crazy?” One of the males hissed; he looked like the kind of guy who would be at home on a surfboard but Peter thought he detected coyote shifter. And werewolf. “We’re supposed to fly below the radar. This little plan is the opposite of flying below the radar.”

The other male, dark haired, laughed. “You’re such a drama queen, Theo. It’s a simple plan, really. We need money and this will get us money.” Peter didn’t know what this one was but he fairly crackled with energy.

“No, Josh, this will get you dead.” The werecoyote shifter called Theo huffed back.

Josh dropped his volume but that didn’t prevent Peter from hearing his words clearly. “Do you know what people would pay to get their hands on the Sheriff’s son? Tracy and Donovan are picking him up now.”

Peter’s head snapped up. 

Sebastien materialized at his side. “You will follow my lead. C'est trop important pour être gouverné par tes émotions.”

His boss, and friend, was right; this was too important to be ruled by Peter’s emotions but he didn’t know how to separate his emotions from the task at hand.

Stiles was in danger. His wolf wanted out.

-0-

Stiles sent another text to Peter letting him know he was on the move—he needed coffee and food if he was going to continue at the library until the end of Peter’s shift.

A crowd of people exited the building ahead of him, seemingly with the same idea in mind. Stiles’s feet trudged along. Safety in numbers.

Something banged into his left forearm, pinching the skin sharply. “Oops, sorry about that.”

Stiles turned out of habit to see who had run into him although his brain was quickly putting the pieces together.

Something had stung him through his—make that Peter’s—light blue Henley. 

A pretty dark haired girl grinned at him. “Or should I say, sorry, not sorry.”

He needed to run. Call for help. Something.

His legs locked in place, his extremities going numb. His eyelids fluttered closed despite his best attempt to keep them open.

A few people exclaimed around them as Stiles lost his balance. Someone hooked an arm around his waist, halting his descent.

“It’s okay, he forgot to take his medicine. We’ll take care of him.”

Stiles recognized that voice.

Donovan.

He had the sensation of weightlessness as his feet left the ground. “Come on, buddy. It’s time to take your medicine.”

_No!_

Stiles couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t even tell anyone he was in distress.

Not that Donovan would care.

Stiles’s brain short-circuited and he plummeted into darkness.

-0-

“Peter, were you able to reach Stiles?” Sebastien was the voice of reason. 

“He’s not answering.” Peter growled. 

Sebastien frowned. “Give IT his phone number and tell them to run a BTS Triangulation Algorithm. While you do that, I will have a little chat with Messrs. Raeken and Diaz.”

Peter wanted to argue—he would get the answers out of the little monsters—but Sebastien began to transform. 

La Bête du Gévaudan was a fearsome sight. The SCIS had been lucky to lure Sebastien away from the French version as his expertise had been invaluable in setting up the departments throughout the US. His intimidation tactics were unparalleled during interrogations, too.

Peter’s wolf simmered down. He could trust Sebastien in this. “As you say. I’ll be back soon.”

Moving toward his desk, Peter logged into his email and submitted the information to IT and assigned it with a priority tag. Within the half hour he should know at least a general area of Stiles’s last known location otherwise he would return to campus and try to track Stiles from there.

His fingers tapped restlessly against the desktop but Peter couldn’t make his body relax.

Stiles needed him.

The seconds ticked loudly on the wall clock. Peter began counting them as a diversion from worrying about Stiles. It didn’t work.

Peter jumped to his feet as Sebastien approached. The other man had transformed back and he was wiping his hands dry on some paper toweling. “We must head to the tunnels.”

“The tunnels. That’s not very specific. We need more information.” Peter headed toward the interrogation rooms.

“Peter, they are unable to give us more information at the moment.” Sebastien’s fangs dropped, and then retracted, as he threw the towel into a wastebasket. Apparently the young men were out of commission. Peter’s wolf purred at the thought.

Sebastien continued, “What of the triangulation?”

Peter’s phone signaled incoming information. “IT has narrowed the last known position on Stiles’s phone to the Sutro Historic District.”

“Ah, the Sutro Baths. It is in ruins after the fire but it is perhaps the perfect place to hide a kidnap victim.” Sebastien’s knowledge of the area was vast despite his only having lived in San Francisco for five years.

The two men headed out again, this time taking Peter’s Shelby Charger. He didn’t care who knew he was coming; he would tear the city apart to find Stiles.

-0-

Stiles still couldn’t move. Or speak. His eyelids refused to budge. 

He could smell saltwater and hear voices but otherwise he was paralyzed.

“He is a pretty little human. Why can’t we eat him?” The female punctuated her question with a giggle.

“Tempting but we need the money. Doesn’t mean we can’t play with him a little.” That was Donovan speaking.

That was Donovan roughly yanking his limp arms over his head, growling.

Another set of hands pulled on his ankles, repositioning him. 

He was stretched over a soft surface, and he thought his knees were bent with lower legs and feet drooping over the edge of something. Maybe a couch? Without sensation it was more a hunch. 

Cool air kissed his chest and stomach, which shouldn’t have been possible. He was dressed.

What was happening?

Something wet touched his cheek. Awareness, in the form of tingling, was returning to his skin but he still couldn’t move.

“Tasty.” Eww, had the girl licked him?

Another swipe from chin to cheek startled him.

“You’re right, Tracy.” The male chimed in.

Both Donovan and this Tracy chick were licking and touching him and it wasn’t with sexual intent.

Bile flooded Stiles’s esophagus. He was choking and couldn’t clear his throat.

Stiles couldn’t breathe again and he didn’t know if this was a panic attack or if he was actually suffocating.

Yesterday Stiles had been a badass, able to defend himself for the most part.

Now he wanted his boyfriend.

_Peter, help me._

-0-

In the end it was easy to track Donati and Stewart down in what was formerly the Sutro Baths.

What wasn’t easy was keeping himself from ripping them apart as they played with an unconscious body draped across a floral covered couch. There was a smattering of out of date furniture in the lightly lit tunnel but the hybrids ignored everything else except their victim.

Sebastien had flashed his eyes at Peter, telegraphing his wishes; he would subdue the hybrids and Peter was to check on Stiles.

Peter ignored the startled yelps and the ensuing ruckus. He trusted Sebastien could handle the upstarts and if not, he would call for Peter’s assistance.

Stiles’s clothing had been sliced in strips, exposing his pale skin to the elements. There were scratches and bites visible between the gaping cotton and Peter scented saliva.

His wolf whined at the other man’s ragged state. Peter knelt next to the couch. “Stiles, can you hear me?”

His boyfriend remained quiet, his muscles still, but Peter detected the rasp and grind of lungs overworking.

With an arm beneath Stiles’s upper back, Peter carefully raised him. This position was supposed to be easier for breathing. Peter had read that recently when he was trying to get up to speed on how human biology worked. It was scary spending time with someone vulnerable although after the way Stiles had defended himself against Donati yesterday, vulnerable might not be accurate.

Stiles’s lungs immediately responded, his respirations slow and steady. Unhindered.

“Mmmm,” Stiles sighed.

“I’m here, Stiles. It’s Peter. I’ve got you.” Peter gathered Stiles against his chest, nuzzling into his neck. His wolf needed to scent the human, replace the repugnant smell of those hybrids.

Something butterfly soft, tickled his face. Peter leaned back, encouraged to see Stiles blinking his eyes open.

“The girl is a kanima hybrid. She paralyzed him. How is he?” Sebastien spoke softly, perhaps knowing it wasn’t wise to startle Peter’s wolf. 

Peter swallowed past his fangs, forcing his shift back; Sebastien wasn’t the enemy and Stiles didn’t need more drama right now. “There was something wrong with his lungs but he’s better sitting upright.”

“There’s an ambulance waiting outside. You see to your friend and I will take care of these two.” Sebastien clasped his shoulder before away.

Peter returned his attention to Stiles and smiled; pretty brown eyes stared back at him. Moisture dripped from the corners of those eyes and Peter’s heart broke.

“Let’s get you out of here.” Peter lifted Stiles fully into his arms, one beneath his knees and one braced behind his back, swiftly carrying him toward the EMT’s.

There would be time enough later to comfort this precious man. Peter would see to it. 

He’d been silly to think he could ease into things with the human. Stiles was the most important person in his life. 

Peter would put Stiles’s needs above his own. Handing so much power over to a human was a scary thought but it felt right.

-0-

Stiles knew he should talk about his time with Donovan and Tracy but every time he thought of them, he become nauseous. 

Peter handed him a glass. He could smell the ginger ale and it helped settle his stomach. “What can I do for you, Stiles?”

His boyfriend hadn’t left his side in the last twenty-four hours. It’s not that Stiles wasn’t grateful for the attention but he worried about Peter. The other man was extremely reticent about the details of his rescue, and his leave from work, and kept his blank face in place.

He also constantly touched Stiles.

“I want to go home.” Stiles was tired of the hospital. He’d gotten into it with his father over the phone when Noah Stilinski had decreed he was coming to get Stiles and taking him back to Beacon Hills.

Beacon Hills was the reason he’d been kidnapped—he refused to divulge his father’s connection, not because he wanted to keep the man in the dark but because he was too exhausted at the moment—so Stiles had dug in his heels. It had hurt his dad but in the end, he’d given in. Forcing Stiles to do something he didn’t want was nearly impossible.

Stiles wanted to stay with Peter.

Peter cleared his throat. “Of course. It’s a four hour trip, I can have you there by dinner time.” The other man brushed hair off of his forehead; the gesture was so tender it made Stiles want to cry.

At least until Peter’s words sunk into his brain. “What? No! Home with you.”

Peter gathered him into his arms gently.

Everything Peter did was done softly, quietly, gently. It made Stiles want to stomp his feet but at the same time, sudden noises or movements startled him so he appreciated Peter’s efforts

“Yes, let’s go home.” Peter whispered into his hair.

Stiles leaned into Peter’s warmth, soaking it up.

From the first moment Stiles had laid eyes on Peter his life had changed. Despite the kidnapping—make that two—Stiles was in a better place.

No longer drifting along. No longer alone.

 

Finis

**Author's Note:**

> This part was particularly fun to write because action (!) and I got to mix elements from show with my own 'verse. Next up is the denouement.
> 
> Thank you for reading! I still have seven more prompts to post by the end of the year to achieve blackout on my hurt/comfort bingo card and as long as the internet and AO3 cooperate, I'm on track!


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